


Welcome To the Team

by KimmyBarns



Category: Engineer/Reader (Team Fortress 2), Medic/Reader (Team Fortress 2) - Fandom, Miss Pauling (Team Fortress 2) - Fandom, Sniper/Reader (Team Fortress 2)
Genre: Embarrassment, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Multi, Progressive, Slow Burn, Slow Burning, Team Fortress 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimmyBarns/pseuds/KimmyBarns
Summary: You're new to RED'S team, and it picks up on your 23rd birthday. However, you've been living at the base since you were about nine years old. Having a fear of your teammates belittling you over your upbringing, you decide to leave it between you, the Engineer, and Miss Pauling. But, how long will it stay that way? Also, you question your crush on Sniper as you start getting to know Medic. Are they really who you've come to know them to be?





	1. Happy Birthday!

 

_Chirp, chirp, chirp._

Your eyes start to open as the sun rose. The light poured in from outside into your room; the color distorting into a very light pearl pink from your curtains. Sitting up, your arms rise over your head as you stretch. After rubbing your eyes you check your wristwatch, and a gigantic smile started to glow on your face. “Today’s the day!” you announce, springing out of bed as if there were people around to hear you. For today, you turn 23. Also on this day, you decided it was time to consult Miss Pauling about missions and mercenary work. You have been anticipating this long-awaited day ever since you were 19, when Miss Pauling gave you your very own Mann Co. Monitor Watch which displayed your HP, the time, and let you contact your teammates if needed. She has been supportive since day one, which you were super grateful for. Being a women herself, she knew first-hand what you were capable of; never doubting your intuition or reasoning unless it were a serious enough issue that she had to handle herself.  
After making a mad dash for her office, Miss Pauling welcomed you. “Happy birthday, {Y/N}. I hope you're well today.” Her harsh, professional demeanor was offset by the soft, welcoming tone in her voice. A grin slapped across your face, you sat down right in front of her desk,looking directly into her eyes. “Can I have my present?” You coo towards her, biting your lip to keep yourself calmer than you felt. She smirked, opened a drawer in her desk, and handed you a vanilla-colored folder. You felt so giddy, and almost tore it with how fast you took it from her. She started giving you all the details, and she let you pick your class from the ones that had been pre-selected from the ability and health screening she had run a few days ago.

“A sniper?” She inquired, seemingly more shocked at your decision than anything else.  
“Yes,” you verify, completely confident in your decision. You weighed in at a measly 143 pounds and stood at five feet and six inches. To boot, you had a slender frame, a small bust and behind; you fit the bill almost perfectly. And, for the longest time you had a small crush on the Sniper, and it made your heart swell with ambitions of many kinds to now be able to study under him. Miss Pauling invited him in and the two of you shook hands. Miss Pauling stood from her desk and began to formally introduce the two of you. “Specialty is long-range.” She pronounces, putting her hand on the Sniper’s back. You nod vigorously, as if to tell her “I want this” again. He cracked a small smirk on his face when he noticed your smile along with your enthusiastic expression.

“‘Ight then, Miss Pauling. I reckon she’s ready to start her trainin’.” He put his hand on your shoulder, which made your heart flutter. You were partially feeling your crush blossom, but more so excited to start finally being of some use to the others. You shake his hand and your cheeks and nose turned a baby pink behind your now darker freckles. Your eyes jolt away as the heat stings your cheeks, and your teeth automatically pull your bottom lip between them to bite it tenderly.

 

_You were so painfully shy around the men you liked or idolized. You never had the chance to be so flirtatious around anyone since once you turned 14 you had only just begun talking to everyone else in the base, any events before then were super blurry. All the men were much older than you, so you couldn't have naughty fantasies or anything like that. The Engineer always made sure all the guys were nice to you, otherwise they would face consequences with his wrench. The only times you felt nervous or uncomfortable here was when you became ill and had to go to the medical wing to see the Medic for a shot or medicine. Something about the Medic just made the room tense._

 

There was a knock on Miss Pauling’s door, and she looks over as if she were expecting someone. You wake from your subconscious and look behind you. “They must finally be here!” She exclaims happily, turning the handle. “Ah, yes,” her frame blocking your view of who she started talking to. She moved out of the way to reveal a slender kid, about your age bearing fighting tape on his knuckles and a cap on his head. A dog tag dangled from his neck stopping about midway down his chest, over a red shirt. “I'm glad ‘ya like ‘em, Miss. I do myself.” Engineer smiled as he always does, announcing his presence behind the new recruit. “Pleasure to meet you.” Miss Pauling held out her hand to shake, and was taken by surprise at how he reacted.

This kid bucked at the opportunity to shake Miss Pauling’s had as if she were a celebrity to want a signed picture from, and nearly yelled. “Pleasure’s all mine, Miss P! Engie here’s been tellin’ me so much about ‘ya!”. You snicker at Miss Pauling seeming so frazzled and discomposed. She snatched her hand away, clearing her throat and brushing her black pencil skirt back down to shape her thighs.

“Yes, well then,” She turns to you and the Sniper. “Meet our new Scout. Our old Scout went to BLU’s team after they had offered him a better payout for his cooperation.” She added. You furrow your brow at this. You didn't know much about the technicalities of the mercenary business, but you knew one thing. You wanted in on it.  
Your gaze was redirected at the Sniper when you felt a tugging on your hand. You two were still holding hands from your now not-so formal introduction. Your face flushes crimson as he lets out a hearty chuckle. Hands now in pockets you dart your eyes around to get attention somewhere else, anywhere else. “You completely embarrassed yourself just now,” you say to yourself, mentally back-handing your subconscious. “You fucking moron!”.

Your eyes meet with the Scout’s, and you let on a half-smile. He flashes a toothy grin, and your eyes roll back into looking straight ahead. Miss Pauling caught your attention when she addressed the Sniper.  
“Take {Y/N} to the range will you? I have to start our Scout’s paperwork and have him sign some things”. Sniper tilted his hat in acknowledgement and replied “Anythin’ for you, Miss”. He signals to you to leave, and you follow him out into the hall. Engineer stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, and you glanced at him with a wide smile.

“Welcome aboard, kiddo. It seems like only yesterday ‘ya couldn't even reach the coffee pot”. His eyes seemed to inflate with emotion and you immediately hugged him in attempts to comfort. “Thanks, dad. I wouldn't have been able to do anything without you”. Your nose nuzzled into his shoulder, and you pulled away. “I have to get going,” you remind him.  
“Right.” He let out a quick sigh, wiping the dampness away from his eyes. “Go on now, ‘ya got’a lot’a learnin’ to do”.

You smile sincerely, looking into his eyes. He's always been supportive of your growth as a woman and as a mercenary. He's always told you it would be tough work but that didn't sway your opinions of wanting to pursue it as a career in adulthood. He understood by the time you turned 16 that you had your mind made up. This meant so much to you, and it always will. With a peck on the cheek, you dismissed the Engineer and skipped to catch up with the Sniper who was nearly all the way down the hall.

“I’m flattered that you’d want to be under my wing,” he looks over his shoulder and smirks at you, and you tried to play it cool. “Oh, you bet! But only because I like the idea of using a sniper rifle,” you smirk back at him, bigger. He shrugs and continues to walk, taking a right turn towards the exit doors. You hesitate and shyly exclaim “I’ll be out in a minute, you go ahead”. Tipping his hat again, he casually strolled outside leaving you behind.

“How can I contend with that?” you think to yourself, pulling a bottled water from the fridge. You tap your foot in an attempt to lower the anxious feeling you have in your throat, and the lead that feels like it’s weighing your legs down.

“I guess I just have to do my best and not worry about semantics,” you breathe, putting the half-empty bottle down on the kitchen’s table. You straighten the collar on your button-up, correct the crookedness of your belt, and start tying your hair into a massive ponytail. You haven’t cut your red-auburn hair practically ever since you started living here. Your hair hangs at a ridiculous 29 inches long, and your bangs were usually tied back with the rest of it. After taking a few more sips out of the water bottle, you hear someone coming down the other hall. Peaking, you see that it’s the Medic.

“Oh, boy” you think to yourself, wondering what you’ll say if he walks in. For the longest time, you’ve heard people say that no one wants to train under the Medic. For what reason, you weren’t sure. However, you knew that being the only person on your team that was responsible for running around healing those who were too careless didn’t seem like an attractive idea.  
The footsteps grew louder and you gulped down the rest of the bottle and started to refill it when you heard the doors open.

“ _Guten Morgen_ ,” you say looking over your shoulder, before the Medic could get a word out. “ _Morgen_?” he inquires.  
“It’s past noon already.” he smirked.  
Your cheeks flash a bright pink and your eyes dart over to your wristwatch. It really was already 14:10.  
“Oh,” you sigh. “My bad. How are you, though? I haven’t seen you in awhile” you ask, sticking the bottle back into the refrigerator and turning to face him.

“I’ve been alright,” he paused, taking a sharp breath. “But I’ve had trouble sleeping. Along with feeling mildly ill already, I’ve been losing sleep”. This made you feel slightly sad, on top of what you thought of being a Medic already, he has to deal with his own issues here. This may seem apparent and obvious now, but you two just never talked enough for you to find out. You cross your arms and rub your biceps in discomfort at this new knowledge. Medic strides past you to the coffee pot where he fills his mug and looks over to you, realizing what you might be thinking.

“I’m alright, _Mein lieber_. Don’t worry about me,” he pauses when you look at him, and you see his cheeks burst into a bright peony hue. “Just worry about your training.” he continues after averting his eyes from yours, and sipping his coffee. You wonder what he saw. Was there something on your face? You lift your hands to dust your face for any foreign objects, when you were interrupted by the Sniper poking his head through the entrance.

“So, ah, ‘ya want to do this sometime _today_?” he mocks. Your eyes peer back up to look at the Medic who was more involved with his coffee than the Sniper’s arrival, or you.

“Yeah,” your thought comes to a halt. You’ve gone days without even seeing the Medic before, let alone talking to him. The ‘cogs’ in your head spin rapidly, flustering at the thought of asking the Medic what you wanted to in front of the Sniper.

“Medic, listen,” your breath locks in your throat when he looks at you. His eyes were as glossy as a window pane due to, what you could only assume to be, lack of sleep. You notice more about his eyes as well; how the iris was a sexy, smoky shade of grey with a soft blue undertone. His glasses were slightly falling down the bridge of his nose, which made it easier for you to see his eyes. His actual eyes.  
Your trace was severed when he pushed his glasses up to their correct position, where in the lenses you could clearly see that your mouth was hanging agape. “Ah! Ah- uh...I, uh…” your words leave your mouth hastily, coming out in a garbled mess. But what you said next, surprised everyone within ear-shot.  
“Would you want to have a cup of coffee together sometime?” you practically yell into his chest, fearing to look at his eyes again. After mentally kicking yourself, your eyes slowly begin to wander upwards again. No matter how badly you didn’t want to look, for two reasons: the chance you might royally fuck everything up, or being rejected. You weren’t sure, in the current moment, which you feared more. Over anything else, you secretly feared you would go into cardiac arrest from how fast your heart was going. When your and the Medic’s gaze met again, you could see that extremely light pink fuse into a soft radish red. Feeling your cheeks burn, you could have guessed yours looked the same to him.  
“Ah,” he began, sitting his mug down with a slightly trembling hand. “That sounds nice, yes...we can arrange that.” he nodded down to you, closing his eyes as if to calm himself. Your eyelids fluttered as you sighed in relief, your subconscious self patting your back as a way of saying “‘Ya done good, kid”.

The Sniper cleared his throat loud enough to echo throughout the entire building, and you spun around on your heel to face him immediately. His whole body was in the door frame now, his eyes almost blazing with anger while his entire face seemed as though it had caught fire underneath his skin. As if you were a dog that had just torn apart the entire house, your head hung low as you stepped towards the door. You attempted to exchange a glance with the Sniper, but his eyes were in a deadlock with the Medic’s. After you were outside, he slammed the door behind you making your heart sink a little. Why was he so upset? Was it something you had done or said? If so, what? Beating at a billion times a second, your heart felt as though it was going to spontaneously combust inside of your chest. You chose not to say anything because you weren’t sure about the Sniper now, or how his temper operated. It didn’t help how you weren’t even sure what or who he was mad at; whether it was you or your actions, or the Medic or his actions, but whatever he was mad at...he was mad. With your decision to not press the subject matter he had managed to calm himself down, long enough to teach you the basics of the sniper rifle you would be using in battle as well as a number of other guns and long-range weapons.  
The sun had begun to set when you had finally made the finishing touches on putting your rifle back together, after the Sniper had shown you the guts of the inside and taught you about all of the technical specs. You admired his immense knowledge about guns and their parts, and appreciate that he took the time to teach all of it to you.

“We should probably call it a night.” he stretched his arms above his head while arching his back, letting his stale joints move freely again.  
“You got all that?” he asked when he had retracted from his stretch, eyeing you as you put the rifle against your leg for support.  
“I think so,” you reply sheepishly, rubbing your now rough hands together. You exchanged looks and you saw a small smile crawl onto his face, which you were happy to see. For the last few hours you were worried that maybe he was still upset.  
“By the way,” you start, picking your rifle back up again and sitting it on your lap. “What...what were you so angry about before?” you tried to not choke on your words. He seemed surprised at your question, and shrugged.  
“I wasn’t mad at you, if that’s what ‘yer askin’.” he replied with that obnoxiously charming smile. Half of you was now feeling less tense, but the other half knew he was partially avoiding the question.  
“Do you have any issues with the Medic?” rephrasing the question seemed to get more of a physical response out of the Sniper. He started to look more restless now, looking as if he wasn’t certain on how to answer.

“The bloke creeps me out,” he started, taking his hat off and rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s alright, really, but when ‘ya don’t see a man for days on end ‘ya start to wonder…” his sentence trailed off, as if he started to think of some things he didn’t want to say to you. You almost chimed in, but when he put a hand on your leg you held it in.  
“I just don’t want nothin’ to happen to ‘ya.” his possible anxiety was masked by that sly grin he had. You scoff at his comment and genuinely find it funny. “Seriously?”, you ask. “Why on Earth would he have any intentions of doing anything that could hurt me? We stay in the same base. That doesn’t make sense---” Sniper cuts you off by standing, and throwing his cigarette on the ground and smashing it roughly with the tip of his boot. He straightened his leather jacket, turned to face you continuing.  
“The man just ain’t right in the head,” he submerged his hands into his pockets. “He has a bad record up until this place, and even now he does questionable things.” his hand touches your shoulder and you brush it off once you grab your rifle and stand, trying to match his stance confidently.

“Why are you being so harsh on him? You don’t judge me for my past, do you?” you stare him down with flames in your eyes, honestly feeling bad for the Medic while questioning the Sniper’s character.  
“To be fair, miss,” he peers down the bridge of his nose at you in bewilderment and raised eyebrows. “I don’t really know much’a anythin’ about your past.”  
Your eyes widen as you realize what you had just said, and what the Sniper had mentioned. Your past. No one else in the base knew besides the Engineer, Miss Pauling and yourself.  
“I, uh…” stumbling over your words again and your confidence depleting, you begin mentally beating yourself up for saying anything.

You didn’t want anyone to know about your past in the fear of people feeling sorry for you. You already could tell they weren’t treating you as roughly as they treated everyone else because you were a woman. Had they found out that you were also orphaned as a child, they may take so much pity on you that you wouldn’t be able to stand it. You’ve never wanted anyone to feel sorry for your circumstances or how you came up. Mostly because it was nothing to really be ashamed of or taken as some sort of medal to wear on your sleeve. What happened, did happen; you were, and still are, perfectly content with where you are and who your ‘parents’ were now. You were never lonely here, the guys still included you in outing to bars and drinks at the base. None of them have ever made advancements or tried to pull a fast one. You felt perfectly happy! Even happier so that you didn’t have to deal with what you used while living with your biological parents. Nobody bullied you here like they used to in school, you didn’t really have to do homework or chores. Miss Pauling schooled you until you ‘graduated’ on your 19th birthday; she and the Engineer took care of you as loving parents would their own child. Everything seemed nothing short of perfect here; now that you just turned 23 and you’re beginning down the road of mercenary work nothing really stood in your way. You were your own free woman to do whatever you pleased! And you liked it that way.

“I need to get going.” you managed to fumble the words out, slipping the shoulder strap of your rifle on. “Ah, okay…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe, um, we could talk about it later sometime?” your speckled cheeks began to tingle as they usually did whenever you felt shy.  
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” you avert your entire face from his view so he couldn’t see your blush and quivering lip. His hand rests on your shoulder again, “You ‘lright, {Y/N}?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried.  
“I’m fine, I just want to go back to my room.” you look back at him, trying to fake the best smile possible. You jerk away from his grasp before he can get another word in, and made a break for the entrance door. Not stopping to look at those you passed, you ran faster than you've ever felt necessary. Post slamming your door and locking it, you slump onto the bed and shake your rifle strap off your shoulder. “Fuck…” you mumble, trying to catch your breath. The sun was setting now, which lead you to decide that it was time to call it a day. You had a couple more days ahead of training with the Sniper, so you needed to work on ways of keeping off the subject of your past. After all the nightly rituals, you curl up into your sheets and sigh deeply. “I don't want him to see me any differently than he sees me now.” you say to yourself. Pulling the sheets tighter around your shoulders in the hopes of working away some of the discomfort, your eyes feel heavier and heavier until your consciousness was gone.

_Sweet, sweet sleep._


	2. Getting to Know You Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Medic agrees to your invitation to go for coffee, but the gang stops you to celebrate your birthday that you had ignored yesterday. Tensions rise with the Sniper, as the Spy teases him for not making a move on you if he likes you so much. An over-protective mentor, a devious flirt, and a lovable doctor will make for an interesting night for you. Feelings flutter inside of your body which makes for a heavy weight on your chest. However, you two reschedule your coffee to a later date. Little do you know, there's much more to the Medic than just his handsome looks. Also to the Sniper besides his sharp personality and dominance, and the Spy than his sly approach and devilish charm.

As they started to adjust, your eyesight was obnoxiously cloudy. It seemed like no matter how much you rubbed them, they just would not clear up.

“Maybe a shower will wake me up…” you groan, throwing your naked legs out from underneath your blankets. Something that seemed almost like electricity surged through up your spine when your feet touched the floor, which also made all of your hair stand on end.

“It’s fucking freezing!” you exclaim, wrapping your arms around yourself. With teeth chattering, you practically throw yourself out of bed as far as possible and strip what little clothes you had on, giving yourself the smallest amount of time to spend in your icebox of a bedroom. In the smoothest, most precise way possible you had yourself in the shower with the hot water on, sitting on the stool that resided in the small cubicle.

Something similar to a satisfactory groan left your body as the hot water caressed your curves. “Funky weather today,” you think aloud, taking the bar soap from a small shelf proceeding to lather it in your hands.

“I wonder if the guys are up yet.”. Once the thought crossed your mind, you realize that you hadn’t even checked the time yourself. You could clearly see that the sun wasn’t out, but what time was it actually? You shrugged it off to finish your relaxing shower.

You break from the shower for your bedroom to slip on your socks and underwear before your feet start to get cold again. You take your wristwatch from your bedside table to check it; “Huh…”, it was only 10:49. Rainy days were common, but the temperature seemed a little bit lower than usual. “Oh well, maybe today can be that day Medic and I have coffee.” you think to yourself, beginning to feel pink flourishing in your cheeks at the thought of having such an ‘intimate moment’ with a man you’ve hardly talked to before. Were you too blunt yesterday? Too straightforward? What if he only said “yes” to please you? He probably knows you’re too much of a chicken shit to go into his room to ask him. You roll your eyes at yourself, thinking “I’m not 11 anymore. I can talk to people freely, and can take it if they say no.” you pat yourself on the back for reassurance. You decide to actually wear a bra today because you didn’t want things to be too noticeable; with a red t-shirt, your brown leather jacket, black slacks and boots you began to head out to see who all was awake. As you opened the door, without even stepping forward you nearly ran straight into the Medic. His arm was in the air with his fingers clenched into a fist, as if he was going to knock on your door prior to you opening it. To his surprise, apparently; he just stood there for a few moments, stunned at the fact you opened it before he could even complete his action. A gentle smile grew on your face, “ _Guten Morgen_ .” you say again with the confidence of being correct this time. “Ah-ha... _Guten Morgen, Mein Lieber._ ” he returned a smile.

After a few moments of silence, you chime in. “Was there something you wanted…? To be at my door so early?” you ask, trying your best to remain composed.

 

“Yes, of course!” he said, letting his arm finally relax entirely.

“Would you like to get that coffee this morning?” he asked, without hesitation. His glare was so alluring, it locked yours with his tightly. You tilt your head slightly in confusion.

“I thought you guys had battle today?” you ask out of genuine curiosity to potentially have all of your lingering questions answered.

“We’re going to have bad weather, so they ordered another cease fire for today.” Medic sighed, letting his tense shoulders loosen more.

You had never really noticed the Medic’s broad, masculine shoulders. Also, how tall he is. He must be standing another foot and some inches taller than you. His body was enough to mask yours in it’s entirety. This naturally made you feel more meek than necessary; it didn’t help that he was probably in his later 20’s, possibly early 30’s. However, you _have_ always had a ‘thing’ for older men. Him, the Sniper, and the Spy...whenever you saw him, that is. The Spy and Medic were in a tie for the award of being “ _The Most Illusive Asshole Ever_ ”. You wanted to talk to them, but they were just never around. Medic was always involved with whatever he needed to do in his lab, Sniper was always out in his van smoking or doing whatever it was that he wanted to do, and the Spy? You were never quite sure. One thing was for sure though; _you didn’t trust his cloaking watch._ You had previously lied to yourself; the Spy actually made you feel more uncomfortable when you thought about it, because you knew as well as he did that he’s capable of being anywhere at any time. Not to mention how frustrating it must be for your team to have to deal with BLU’s Spy in battle, and how good he must be at evading detection.

But, the Medic just started to appear more as an individual than a clone. His black-silver hair combed out nicely, with a small scarf tucked into a white button-up shirt with a charcoal-grey vest and black slacks similar to yours. He made you feel slightly underdressed, as well as bashful. As an apprehensive schoolgirl is around her childhood crush would act, you felt as if you seemed to be as equally ludicrous; he just looked extraordinarily handsome today. Your admiration came to a screeching halt when he finally relaxes enough to let his elbow rest on your room’s door frame, and lean forward over you. This motion gave you the feeling of him feeling more comfortable the more you two simply stood near each other. You begin biting your bottom lip. Is this what an actual crush felt like? Or compatibility? Come to think of it, you recall feeling mostly tense around the Sniper yesterday. Not only because of the conversations the two of you had, but your urge to impress him kept your guard from going down.

“So then, you wanted to go get that coffee today?” you laced your fingers tightly together in front of your legs, embarrassed with how meek your voice sounded. You hated yourself in the fact that confidence was not your strong suit, especially now that you’re dealing with men; as if your mind had never had a creative thought, it was a blank slate whenever you spoke to the guys you extol.

A long, gracious grin bloomed on his face as he spoke, “ _Absolut, meine Liebe._ ”

Your face flushed probably dozens of varying shades of red; “Damn him for being so attractive!” you think to yourself, crossing your arms. Even though you had no clue what he just said, you were flattered anyway. He stood back up straight, and making room for you to move into the hall with him.

“After you.”

You could stake money on the fact that every time you looked at his face, you noticed something new. There was something else particular about his eyes; a small gleam of tenderness towards you. With the utmost certainty, you also could guess that he didn’t look at his other teammates this way. A delicate, _genuine_ look of caring and compassion. Your subconscious, unbenounced to you was aware of everything you were doing wrong, ‘tugged’ on your thoughts to knock you out of your realm of thinking to the present moment.

You were staring at him.

 

_Again ._

 

You hurried yourself in front of him, letting him close your bedroom door. The same walk you took yesterday with the Sniper was painfully silent. Being uncertain of what to say to Medic or how to even approach beginning to say something, you decided that restraining your tongue was your best option. Every few seconds you would feel him lingering closer as you walked. Still, you wanted to look at him. Hell, it started to feel like you wanted to do _more_ than just look. Peering over your shoulder, you could see his hands tucked away into his vest pockets, his eyes looking straight ahead, and his shoulders were squared which made him appear taller and viciously confident. You ran your fingers through your silk-like hair, and straighten your posture to mime his. Taking longer strides down the hall, wishing to appear to him as if you knew what you were doing. When in all reality, you absolutely did not. You barely knew how to contain yourself, knowing you were going on your very first date.

 

 _Your first date_.

 

Those words started to sink into your throat and fluttered all the way down into your stomach to join all of the other foreign feelings of bliss that were conglomerating there. You started to nibble on your lip again out of glee this time, while letting your mind bathe in all of the gloriously perverted possibilities that could be constricted within this date’s contents. However, your imagination stopped as you entered the kitchen to see every other teammate sitting at the table. They all turned to look at you, most of them with wide smiles on their faces. The Pyro stood, waving his hands in the air to signal your line of vision to them. They took a match, lit it, and began to light 23 candles on top of a fairly large sheet cake that sat in the middle of the table. This lead to the commencement of fireworks shooting off inside of your chest, with the light in your eyes to match.

“What’s going on?” you ask no one in particular.

“With the way you sped off so quick yesterday, we didn’t get to surprise you.” the Spy chimed in.

 

  _Ho-ly shit._

 

The _Spy_ is actually sitting at this table, apparently also wanting to celebrate whatever it was they were going to.

 

“Eh...surprise me?”

“Yesterday _was_ your birthday, wasn’t it?” Sniper asked, leaning against the wall beside the table. His belittling tone was starting to grind on a nerve of yours. If anyone, you expected the Spy to be this much of a total jerk. But you could tell he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking _behind_ you. Was he...jealous? So jealous that he felt the need to be so boorish?

The Engineer stood from his chair to make his way to you, bringing you in for a gratifying hug. “On top of wantin’ to celebrate your birthday, Miss Pauling also decided it would be best if we welcomed you into the team with a little gift from Mann Co.” he reached back to the table to grab a rather large, flat present from the Heavy. Your eyes started to sparkle from tears when you took it from him.

“Go on and open it,” he pushed, putting his hand on your shoulder.

After flipping it over to reveal the neatly placed tape on the back, you started to peel the pieces back. Astonished, you started to cry when you saw what the wrapping concealed. A gorgeous mahogany wood plaque had a golden piece attached to it. Reading:

* * *

**_On behalf of all Mann Co. operatives and administrators_ **

**_We grant you this official plaque to congratulate you on your commitment_ **

**_Welcome to RED’s team, {Y/N}_ **

**_We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, and will always appreciate your talents_ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_President of Mann Co. and Miss Pauling_ **

* * *

 

You practically launched yourself into Engineer’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder. After a minute or so, you pull away and wipe your cheeks with your arm.

“Thank you so much,” you sob out, trying to stop yourself from crying more.

“You part of family now!” Heavy exclaimed, slamming one hand on the Spy’s shoulder making him cringe so much that he bit through the butt of his cigarette. Mostly everyone was clapping and cheering over this, even the Spy. Odd behavior, this you were certain; it just made you happy that he seemed more human now. Much like the Medic, you have begun accepting them as much as you do everyone else. In a fit of bliss, you spin around to the Medic to solely see his eyes. When your eyes met, you could see increasing anxiety in his face; it was hard to tell what he was thinking, but you smile at him anyway. When you do, his facial features became softer and more approachable. A low sigh escaped his lips, and his arms slowly start to rise; he was inviting you into an emotionally charged expression of affection. This was new for him to attempt, but you accepted it happily by falling into his chest and wrapping your arms around him as tight as you could without suffocating him.

“Congratulations.” you heard a whisper, out of all the other commotion in the room. You look up to see his eyes become even more lax, which was accompanied by a growing smile.

The stunning ocean in his eyes sent waves of static through your arms and fingers, you force “Thank you.”

Once the auditory merriment dies out, you two realize that you’ve been latched onto each other for a few minutes. After pulling away, you turn again to see nearly everyone staring at the both of you.

“Ah, yeah...so…” stuttering, you pull at some strands of your hair and rub them in embarrassment.

“‘Ya want to make ‘yer wish?” Demoman pipes up. A sneer flashed across the Sniper’s face, his arms crossed and white-knuckling his grasp on his shirt sleeves; he was staring at the Medic still.

 

_He was pissed._

You cautiously make your way to sit down where the Spy gladly lets you have his seat next to the Heavy, and you blew out the cake’s candles.

“What do I have to wish for?” you think to yourself as the Engineer started to cut slices. The Medic went around to squeeze past some of the others to sit across from you. You look at him, directly this time. No shyness swayed your confidence, and your cheeks flush.

 

“I wish the Medic and I were on that date we planned…” you sigh and let your eyes wander into your lap, but your depressing thought was cut off by the Spy.

“ _J’ai un cadeau pour vous, mon cher”_ he coos at you, handing you a small box. Your eyebrows furrow at him.

“I don’t speak much French, you know” you stick your tongue out at him.

“A gift,” he repeats. “From me to you, to celebrate your arrival.”

Hesitating for a moment you shoot a look of disbelief at him; taking the neatly wrapped present from him and sitting it on your legs. What game was he playing? What would _he_ , of all people, get _you_? As far as you were aware, he didn’t know you existed. The feeling was quite mutual.

You pull the ribbon with two fingers, letting it unravel itself with ease. Once all the wrapping paper was removed, you lift the lid to see a...hat? A beret, to be more specific.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, you know” you scoff, taking the woven headwear out of it’s box.

He nods in acknowledgement, smirking underneath his mask. “I know,” he starts.

“But a woman as beautiful as you deserves an equally gorgeous gift” he bent down next to you, taking his gift from your hands and placing it on your head. You blushed, half in anger and half from unease. Contradicting feelings aside, you appreciated that he even bothered to get you anything at all. Or, even show up.

 

“It wasn’t just me, you know; everyone decided that a gift was a good idea. Isn’t that right, Sniper?” his snake-like eyes slithered over to meet the Sniper’s, seeming to burn more and more with increasing animosity.

“Hey, Spy,” you try to take his attention away from the Sniper.

“I’m actually shocked you’re even here, I’ve never seen you in broad daylight like this. You actually look _human_ , surprisingly.” you mock him, teasing him in return for knowingly picking at the Sniper. He chuckled in return, using his index and thumb to caress your chin to look at him.

“I am quite deceitful, yes,” he leaned in closer to your face; close enough that you could feel his breath brush your cheeks, making them glow a frustratingly bright pearl pink.

“But I can assure you, I am aware of everything. Hardly anyone or anything can evade my detection.”

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach wanting to explode into vocalized feelings of lustful intimidation, but before you could say anything the Sniper threw his vein-covered hand onto the Spy’s collar. Both of you look, and you could practically see the steam seeping from his pores accompanied with a beet-red face.

 

“That’ll do, Spy…” he seethed through clenched teeth. You could clearly tell he was trying to not scream or do anything drastic.

“Whatever you say, Sniper.” he shrugged his hand off and turned to face him, using only his fingertips to nudge the Sniper away by his chest.

“ _You’re a bloody creep…_ ” his teeth were rubbing together as he mumbled, while clenching and unclenching his fingers.

Letting out a satisfactory chuckle, putting a new cigarette between his lips. He started to lean into the Sniper’s face, going past the point of personal space.

 

“It isn’t my fault you always fall short, _perdant inculte_.”

You stand from your chair and wiggle between the two men, “That’s enough, you two. Knock it off”. The Sniper and Spy alike look down at you, then back at each other.

 

“Very well,” the Spy readjusted his necktie.

“I'll be outside if anyone needs me,” the Sniper growled, sulking while going through the exit doors.

After letting out a low, anxious sigh you sit back down to enjoy the company of your other teammates. Taking hours of the day just getting to know everyone a little better, especially the Medic. What little you got to ask him, anyway. Because also in celebration of your birthday, you had your first couple of alcoholic beverages. By the end of it all, your thoughts felt like they were melting together a bit and your eyelids felt heavy.

“Hey guys?” You draw everyone's attention.

You smile sincerely and stand, “I appreciate everything you've done for me and given me today, and since I've been here.”

A wide smile ran across everyone's face, and they clapped weakly. You hadn't noticed before, but even the Sniper had come back and was sitting in between the Demoman and the Heavy. This made you feel better about what the Spy had done. You planned on apologizing, but just not when you were tipsy. Tomorrow, definitely.“But I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself, I feel tired”.

The Medic’s attention was immediately drawn back from his drunken haze, as if he had immediately sobered up.

Everyone bid you a goodnight and promised they would clean everything up. Those that weren't too drunk, anyway. You hugged them all, thanked them again personally, and started towards your room with hands in your jacket’s pockets.

Not too long afterwards, you heard someone running behind you.

“{Y/N}!”

You turn to see Medic, sprinting towards you like this would be the last opportunity he would have to tell you something. He managed to come to a total stop when he was just shy of bumping into you. Both of you grabbed the other’s biceps, and you nearly dropped your plaque. He did to stop himself, and you did to help him not fall onto the floor. His face was a dark red from having been drinking, but his facial expression made him look frantic as if he had forgotten why he chased you down.

After you two collected yourselves and loosened your grip on each other’s clothes, you stood up straight and looked directly into his eyes.  
“Yes…?”

 

“I...uh, well...I’m…” he seemed way more nervous than ever before.

“Hey,” you mutter, instinctively raising your hand to rest on his cheek. This calmed him down immensely, which let his shoulders and back slouch forward.

You had just come to realize how soft his skin is, even though there was a bit of stubble.

“Would it be alright if we...rescheduled our outing?” his words seemed strained.

“You mean our ‘date’?” you smile.

“Um...yes, our date.” his eyes gyrate, as if they’re looking for somewhere else to rest on.

You let your fingers slip off of his cheek to rest on his chest.

Letting go of him entirely, “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” you bite your bottom lip shyly, tucking it into your mouth.

He mimics you, resting his palm on your cheek and starts to caress it with his thumb. Almost unwillingly, you enable your head settle into his hand and let your eyes close. Once a few moments pass, you grasp his hand with yours and hold it gently.

 

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, huh?” you whisper through a genuinely happy smile, looking into his eyes again.

“Of course, _Mein Liebling_.”

You snicker, “I don’t speak German”.

“Not yet,” he smiles, taking a lock of your hair between his index and thumb, twisting it tenderly.

“I should get some sleep” you sigh, pulling away gently.

“If you must, _Mein lieber_ ”

You walk backwards towards your bedroom door and tighten your grip on your gift, staring at the Medic the entire way until you feel your hand brush the doorknob. Unintentionally, you started gnawing at your lip again in anticipation. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you feel this way, or love. You examine the award one more time, before laying it on your bedside table. Once your shower was done, you dressed yourself appropriately lazily shuffled back into your room. The sky looked particularly beautiful tonight. The last beams of light from the sun stained streams of orange and gold onto the gorgeous violet canvas that was the sky while also being speckled with stars. You pull down at the seam of your tank top, and think about the Medic again.

You weren’t anywhere close to tired; you were curious and fascinated. You spent the entire day getting to know who the rest of your friends were, but him...he had formed a soft spot in your chest. A particularly big one, too. You reach up and rub the left side of your collarbone with your index, tracing it gently and going up and down your neck and closed your eyes.

You were guilty of imagining it to be the Medic’s fingers. He has infested your mind with all kinds of ravenous and devious ideas and...hungers. You were so happy now, you felt pain. The pain of wanting someone to be close to you, but at the same time being unsure. Uncertain if it was what you truly wanted. Is it? Will it ever be?

Everything felt blurry. And this time, you knew it wasn’t because of the intoxication of booze. It was a different kind. The kind you wanted, and you’ve been wanting. You open your eyes and see the sky had been fully overcome by darkness; your eyes started to feel heavy again as you turned away from the window. As you got into bed and felt unconsciousness overtake your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling you weren’t alone.

 

  
_And you would be correct._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat fight! Between men?
> 
> This chapter had a lot of love poured into it, and I even re-watched AND re-read parts of '50 Shades of Grey' for some inspiration here. Curse the Spy for being so devious. I really can't wait until I can introduce you to him properly, and neither can he.


	3. A "Thing"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're greeted by the Administrator's voice this morning as battle is beginning. While tuning in, the Sniper's aim is a little better than you thought, which energizes the thought about training with him again. A big part of you just wants to prove it's worth, but another part is overcoming that with a want for your healer. However, when an opponent makes a move you realize that this might not be a smooth ride. Either way, it's difficult to not love the attention you're getting.

You wake to the sound of the Administrator’s voice booming over the loudspeakers that surrounded the battlefield. Still dazed from sleeping, you nearly fell when you attempted to get up as quickly as possible, while grabbing your wristwatch and again on the way to your wardrobe to grab a pair of pants. Hopping with one leg in, you kneel down to get your rifle from underneath your bed. Upon standing, you zip and button your slacks, and proceed to throw the shoulder strap of your rifle over your head and tighten it; soon to follow, your watch latching onto your wrist.

 

“ _ Mission begins in 60 seconds!” _

 

Without hesitation or much thought you wrench the window open, and jump out legs first. Grabbing the window’s frame, you allow what little momentum you have to turn yourself and latch onto the outside wall like an arachnid. With as much force as you could muster in your hazy state, you climbed onto the roof and settled in a relatively shaded spot.

 

“ _ Mission begins in 30 seconds!” _

 

You take your rifle off of your back, lay on your stomach and prop it up on your hand while letting your elbows rest on the roof. Taking a moment, you rub your eyes with a free hand to help yourself wake up and clear your vision. You brush wild hairs out of your face, and bend your neck to look through the scope.

Blu’s on the offensive today; you could see their Engineer had already finished setting up his dispenser and sentry, and he was accompanied by their Pyro and Scout on either side. The Heavy and Demoman were front and center, with the Soldier and Medic not too far behind. You wrinkle your nose when your search for the Spy and Sniper ended fruitlessly. 

 

“ _ Mission begins in five… _ ”

 

“ _ Four… _ ”

 

Taking a few deep breaths, you try to shake a lingering unease.

 

“ _ Three… _ ”

 

“ _ Two… _ ”

 

“ _ One…! _ ”

 

The ear-numbing, bone-chilling siren that you had come to know over the last 15 years of your life sounded; it sounded so scary now. You had a hunch of what was going to happen now, but were unaware of how unprepared you were to see it all unfold. What little animals were still around fled; a small piece of you wishing you could join them

Yelling and gunfire erupted from both sides, as Red began to push forward. A tiny pearl of sweat emerged on the bridge of your nose as you witnessed what appeared to be sheer chaos in front of you. Red’s Pyro, Heavy, Soldier, and Engineer were hard at work trying to destroy Blu’s defenses. While scanning the field, your attention became drawn to the Sniper. Although he had wedged himself in a corner and was being masked by shadows, you could see a look of steely determination on his face. “What’s he looking at?” you murmur.

Doing your best, you trace his line of sight. Blu’s Scout? 

“No way,” you scoff. “He’s too fast!”

Within a second, your doubt was shattered by a cracking noise through all of the other commotion. Having jumped at this, you needed to recollect yourself to see what had happened.

“Oh my God…” you utter, mouth now agape.

 

He had done it. The Sniper had shot the enemy Scout in the head, leaving him in a heap on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. You stare at the Scout’s corpse for a moment, trying to take it all in. A lump formed in your throat when you saw the spray of crimson on the wall behind his body, where you could only assume his head used to be. All of the blood slowly stopped gushing, and the body itself began to disappear so he could respawn.

“ _At least it was quick…?_ ” you try to comfort yourself. 

Albeit disturbing to an extent, you were thoroughly impressed with the Sniper. He probably has that smug look on his face, while congratulating himself on a job well done; you could only imagine how good it must feel to actually be down there, engaging in combat with your teammates. Seeing everything taking place now, it seemed really surreal; the Heavy was able to take so many enemies out at one time, with the help from the Medic. The Pyro looked absolutely insane while they waved their flamethrower around, constantly setting someone else ablaze. And of course, the Engineer. Without a shadow of a doubt, you knew he was the glue that held the guys together. And now having the chance to see him in battle, it wasn’t just as a friend. Although, every time someone got killed you found yourself looking away. It’s the harsh, grizzly truth of mercenary work. It isn’t pretty, and you would have to get used to it eventually. Though it sent chills up your spine and through your arms, and made you feel a bit queasy.

What was truly upsetting to you was seeing the Medic getting killed every now and again. Even though it was the same for everyone, it felt more upsetting. Your heart ached from imaging how much it hurt, and seeing how gruesome it looked in reality. Throughout the duration of the match, you had come to realize something; you hadn’t seen the Spy. “ _Curse him for being so crafty,_ ” you thought to yourself, rolling your shoulders and stretching your legs. You had begun to get sore, but there were still a few minutes left. 

With those last few minutes, a couple close calls, and more points for Red’s team, they had taken Blu’s intelligence. A sigh of relief escaped you as you sat up; only having 44 seconds left was cutting it pretty close. However, they did it.

Everyone began to disperse into their own bases, and you made your way back inside the same way you came out; you wanted to meet up with the guys and congratulate them on a great job. 

Upon reentering your room, you began to return everything to it’s rightful place and get properly dressed. When you open your bedroom door, your plan was stopped by accidentally punting something that had been left in the hall right in front of your room. An envelope?

You lean down and take it, wrinkling your nose at it upon closer inspection. It was in French, but you were fairly certain it said something along the lines of “To: A beautiful woman”. A sneaking suspicion, if it weren’t painfully obvious, came over you as to who may have left it for you. Shrugging it off for now, you turn and toss it onto your bed and continue on. Hands in pockets, you jog into the kitchen just in time to meet the Scout walking in.

“Oh, hey!” he sounded surprised by your presence.

“Hey! How did it go?” you ask, having not payed much attention to him while you were watching.

“Oh man! I think it went pretty well, wouldn’t’cha say?” he turned to let the Soldier in, punching his bicep as he passed. Soldier laughed, flashing his teeth. Seeing him, you feel the hairs on your arms stand as you think back to the Blu’s Scout getting decapitated by the Sniper.

“That Demoman is such a sucker! He’ll fall for just about anything!” Unknown to you what he was talking about, you let it go by laughing along to pretend as if you had a clue.

To follow, the Heavy and Pyro. The Pyro waved at you and you smiled sheepishly and waved back, a little afraid due to their performance. Their muffled speech sounded happy, but all you could do is nod. Everyone else began to pile in and go about their own business. As soon as you saw the Sniper, you ran up to greet him. Enthusiasm in your actions, and energy rushing through your whole body.

“Sniper,” you start, nearly falling into him. His before grimaced expression melted away into his usual genuine smile when you had approached him.

“I saw you out there; that was amazing!” beaming, you didn’t shy away from his admiring gaze for once.  
“Oh, ‘ya did? How?” he chuckled, taking his hat off and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was watching all of you from the roof with my rifle,” you explain, smirking as if you felt clever. “The way you took out that Scout, pardon the expression, blew my mind.”

The both of you exchange idle chatter for a moment or two before you saw the Medic and Spy come in out of your peripheral vision.

“Hey, would you eh...be okay if we hung out later? Train up a bit?” Sniper asked unexpectedly, forcing you to recenter all of your attention to him. 

“I, uh…” you had forgotten about what you had planned with the Medic. And you were not about to commit social suicide now by telling the Sniper that. “I’ll check my schedule,” teasing, you dismiss his invitation as inconspicuously as possible. He didn’t catch on, because he let out a hearty chuckle and put his arm around your shoulders.

“Aw, come off it! We all know you of all people don’t have plans!” he joked, leaning in closer to you. A second passed before you made the brash decision to keep teasing him; “How do you know that? Have you been spying on me?”.

In an small yet unexpected act of aggression, the Sniper pulled himself away. “No! Absolutely not!” now on the defensive, he shoved his hat back on his head and looked away. You raise an eyebrow at him and almost question it, until you see the Spy and Medic heading down the hall together. 

“Listen, I’ll get back to you. Okay?” you ask, batting your lashes a little to ease out of the conversation.

“O’lright…” he mutters, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. You knew he would be disappointed either way, but you wanted to catch up with the Medic. You smile, and leave him sulking. The better part of you felt really bad for leaving him so suddenly, especially with the way he acted whenever you left him. Though it was a little childish, you still felt like a bad friend for wanting to spend more time with someone else. Just as you rounded the corner, the Soldier approached Sniper with a beer in each hand chuckling; nudging him in the arm with the top of one bottle, he pushed one of the biggest buttons the Sniper had. 

“Looks like you have some competition!” he cackled.

Sniper looked down at him, an embarrassed rage in his eyes. Soldier's laugh died out, “Do you  _ ever _ stop talking? You’re just as bad as the Demoman.” Sniper sneered, bearing his teeth like a canine. The Demoman shoved the Soldier out of the way to meet Sniper’s glare, smiling just as wide.

“We aren’t the ones who are too chicken shit to talk to a _girl_!” he erupted into howling laughter, slapping the Soldier's shoulder to encourage him to take part in mocking the Sniper. While both of them were involved with their own jokes, Sniper had seized one of the beers from Soldier’s hands and made his way out to his van to avoid any further teasing.

“As if this wasn’t bad enough…” he whispered to himself, slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Once you saw them, you begin jogging to cover the distance between you and the Medic and Spy. They both hear, and turn to see who it was. You could practically see it from here; the Medic’s glossy eyes become brighter upon seeing you. It made your chest feel as though it had a fire inside of it; as warm and welcoming as the looks he had whenever you were together now. It was becoming an unspoken, but fierce attraction between the two of you. Once you were within ear shot, they finished up their conversation over the information they had gathered.

“I’ll see what I can make of this, and let you handle the rest.” Medic sighed, taking his gloves off.

“Very well,” Spy handed off the small briefcase, seemingly watching the Medic’s every move. The moment you had stopped in front of them, he greeted you with the same slimy grin he carried around just about everywhere he went.

“Spy.” you attempt to level with him, failing miserably.

“ _ Mon cher _ ,” he hissed, eyeing you as if you were something delicious. This causes you to roll you eyes, making his smirk fade.

“It's impolite to roll your eyes, you know.” He brushes hair out of your face, and caresses your cheek. A sly smile rolls across your face, and he furrowed his brows.

“Oh, pardon me, I didn't realize you had any authority over me…’ _ mon cher’.”  _ you scoff, and push his hand away from your face.

“Medic, can I have a word with you?” you forced yourself to pretend as if the Spy weren't there; before you knew it, he had actually disappeared. You clear your throat nervously, and look into Medic’s eyes. He seemed to understand your distress, because he put an arm around your shoulders and led you into his lab. After the door was secure behind you, he set the briefcase down on a table with a few pieces of surgical equipment as well as his gloves. While unbuttoning his lab coat, he turned to you and smiled.

        “Don't worry, I've made sure we’re alone. What is it that you need?” He asked, hanging his coat on a hanger beside the door. He was wearing his white button-up along with a red necktie and light brown vest with golden buttons. A red cloth tucked in it’s pocket, which he used to wipe his forehead once before folding it back and sticking it back into his pocket.

      “Ah, you've got…” you paused, and pointed to your cheek to mirror a couple specs of crimson on his cheek.

      “Oh,  _ Es tut mir leid _ !” He sounded over enthused. But, maybe it's just second nature by now. Using the cloth again, he rubbed it off as best he could. You could guess now why it was red. You clear your throat again, and take a seat in a cushioned chair next to his large desk that was adjacent from a stretcher. Paper and pencils were littered across the surface; numbers, equations, pages from books with depictions of human organs and skeletons covered most of them. One had red lettering, and a large stamp on the back from what little you could see. He came over, took it, and placed it in the desk’s side drawer. After taking a seat himself, he began to sort through a lot of what was there.

      “Now, how can I help you?” His elbows resting on the desk’s surface, fingers laced together which he used to prop his chin onto. All the while, smiling sweetly at you. You instinctively return the sweet gesture, though it felt short of sincerity. You weren’t sure how to ask him, specifically now that he wasn’t intoxicated; your date that was cut completely out yesterday by festivities was bugging you, and you weren't too sure how he would react.

“Remember last night when you saw me off to bed?” you start, twirling some loose strands of hair around your index. A surprised look on his face quickly turned into shock.

“It’s blurry,” he coughs, acting almost embarrassed. “Could you refresh me, please?”

“Well, last night you had come to me and seemed upset that our date hadn’t gone as planned. And, I know you might be busy today with decoding that intelligence and all but...I was hoping…” a brief pause made the air become stale. It felt cold, which made you wonder how a room so void of natural light and warmth could be a suitable workspace for anyone. Fluorescent bulbs in the lights above made everything become an even brighter; light shades of blue looked white and what was already white or stainless steel became nearly impossible to look at.

Your gaze strays away from his into your lap, and around the floor. A shaky sigh escapes your lips before you sit up straight, doing your best to appear confident. You square your shoulders, and take a deep breath.

“I wanted to ask you if we could go on that date now.” admitting it finally, you suppress a mass trying to form in your throat. Which became easier as the Medic’s face became more gentle, as he let his shoulders drop.

“Absolutely,  _ Mein Liebling _ !” he looked so cute whenever he expressed so much joy. It was rare, but seeing it now being so close just makes it so much better. A toothy smile bloomed on your face, and your shoulders became lax.

“So, you probably want to clean up beforehand.” you chuckle, noticing stains you hadn’t before. Most of them being blood, but others looked like red clay stains and some grass. He looked around on his arms and down his chest, and smiled wide.

“Yes, definitely. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you!” he joked. A short laugh was shared between the two of you, before you continued.

“Do you mean we’re actually going  _ out _ ?” you weren’t sure which answer you wanted to hear more.

“Well, yes. There’s a town not too far from here that has a nice diner we can go to. If you would like to, that is. We can stay here if you prefer---” you cut him off without thinking twice.

“No! No, I would love to actually go  _ out _ with you!” your cheeks became pink as you realized what you had said. “ _ Well fuck, just  _ **_propose_ ** _ to him why don’t you? _ ” you mentally slap yourself. 

“Alright then! I suppose it’s settled,” Medic stood, taking his wristwatch off and laying it on his desk. “Would you like to meet me outside in about 30 minutes?”

You nod aggressively; a realization knocks you off the cloud you felt as though you were on. You didn’t have any  _ actual _ formal clothes. 

 

“ _ Oh,  _ **_fuck_ ** _. _ ”

 

“Yeah,” you push yourself out of the chair frantically. “See you then!”

Spinning around, you dart out of the doors you came through. Once you were standing at your bedroom door, you stopped to seriously think. A thought hits you like a ton of bricks; “ _ Maybe Miss Pauling has something I can wear! _ ”

 

With a spring in your step, you make your way to her office. Once there, you knock vigorously.

“Miss Pauling?” you call, putting your ear to the door. Within seconds, you were worried that she wasn’t in. Her schedule was so sporadic that she could really be  _ anywhere _ . Impatience came over you which made your foot begin to tap, and you proceed to knock louder. Without warning, her door flew open to reveal a disheveled Miss Pauling.

“ _ Yes… _ ?” she seemed to suppress some rage when she realized who was interrupting her, and brushed some loose locks of her raven hair behind her ears.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but...I need a favor. A _woman-to-woman_ favor.” you rub one bicep, looking down at your toes and back up at her. Her face wore an expression of confusion and bewilderment.

“Um...sure.” she peered out past you to look around, before letting you come in. Her office was fairly organized, minus a gigantic stack of vanilla-colored folders which overtook her desk. Loose-leaf papers here and there, with a large amount taking up a good amount of her trash bin. Administrator must be working her hard, because her office is usually one of the cleanest places in the base. As far as you knew, anyway. The only other places you’ve been besides her office was Medic’s lab, your room, the lounge, meeting room, and the kitchen.

“What is it?” she began to pry, seeming annoyed by your silence.

“Well, I...I have a _thing_ I’m doing tonight.” you try to keep your explanation as vague as possible. You weren’t sure how she would take the news that you and the Medic had a ‘thing’ going on.

“A... _ thing _ ? And what does that have to do with me?” she sits back down at her desk, and begins to shuffle through some papers of varying colors and sizes.

“I uh…” you start playing with your hair again, and chew on your bottom lip for a minute. “It’s a formal outing,” you continue; you figure that making sound as professional as possible would peak her interest. She eyes you over her spectacles, eyebrows raised.

“I came to the realization that I don’t actually have formal clothes to wear. So, I wanted to ask you for some clothes. If you can spare any, that is.” you do your best to keep eye contact with her. She cracks a small smile, and stands again while straightening her violet blouse.

“Follow me, and we’ll see what we can find for you.” at the back of the room now, she opens a dark oak door that lead into another room. A room that you could only assume to be her bedroom.

“Do you stay here, Miss Pauling?” you ask, stepping in.

“Oh, no, not usually. I’m usually out running errands and staying in hotels for business meetings; whatever else Administrator has me doing, on top of being out and about to cover up for the guys.” she shrugs, walking across the room to a set of double-doors with silver handles.

“Now, most of what I have are worn regularly but...I do have this one,” she pulls out a magnificent crimson dress with a thin black belt around the waist. It had thin straps attached to a heart-shaped neckline, which fell out nicely with the fabric of the dress; while it had simple features, it was also elegant in the way there was a thinner layer of sheer lace draped over the bottom pencil-skirt half. It looked form-fitting, but so soft and comfortable.

“I have shoes to match.” she bent down to pick up a pair of, to you, intimidating heels that looked to measure out at four inches or so. They were black with crimson tips, but had a soft look to them. They too looked comfortable but fierce, in the best way. Smiling, you look at Miss Pauling feeling self-doubt; “Do you think those would fit me?” you ask, playing with your fingers cautiously. She looks at the dress examining it closely, and looks back at you. A few moments pass before she smiles sweetly and genuinely.

“I absolutely do.”

You take the dress and shoes from her, and make your way into her bathroom once she gives you permission to use it. You strip down to your bare skin, minus your panties. Though you weren’t close to being an expert, you were fairly certain that the sheer back of the dress’ collar would show your bra. So, you convinced yourself you could go without. You slip it on over your head and it pretty much did the rest; it fit like a glove would, truly. Even with the belt on, there was just enough wiggle-room.

“Now, for the hard part…” you whisper to yourself, looking down at the heels. You sit on the toilet seat, and slip them on. With as much caution as possible, you begin to stand. After taking a second to get adjusted with your new height, you chuckle at your own insecurity. “This isn’t so bad!”

However, the moment you attempt to step forward your ankle became locked in place which caused you to stumble forward into the sink. Knees bent, you grasped onto the edge of the porcelain for, what felt like, your life. A deep breath later, you were standing again; a quick pep talk got you walking again, with more confidence than you had the first time. If you could conquer your fear of basically asking the Medic on a date, you could surely overcome a pair of heels. After a few awkward steps onto the carpet of Miss Pauling’s room, you were back in her office on hardwood which made it a bit easier.

“Well…?” you ask, hoping for positive feedback.

She turned in her chair to look at you, and seemed to be awe-struck.

“You look beautiful! Oh, wait,” she leapt from her chair, and moved behind you. After playing with your hair for a few minutes, she had made it into a nice bun.

“There. You look wonderful, <Y/N>. I’m sure whoever you’re meeting will think the same.” you both exchanged looks of positivity. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asks while leading you back out into the hall. You think, and something else hits you. “Yes, actually.”

“Would you happen to have a French-to-English dictionary I could borrow?” you inquire hesitantly, watching her expression change into a suspicious one. She shrugged it off, dug through one of the many massive bookcases she had, and handed it to you.

“I have to know many languages to have this job. If there’s anything else you need, just come see me. And, don’t worry about the dress.” she pushed you completely back out into the hall, and shut the door. You didn’t get the chance to thank her, but she knew you were grateful.

 

You made a short pit-stop by your room and tossed the dictionary Miss Pauling had given you in where the envelope was, and pressed on. Having gotten mostly used to walking in the heels, the most foreign part now was getting used to the clicking noises they made whenever you took a step. It was annoying, but something you would have to adjust to. You peek around the corner of the kitchen door to see no one sitting there but, of course, the Spy. Groaning, you step out anyway and look straight ahead at the door.

“Where do you think you’re going in  _ that _ ?” he snickers.

 

“ _ Of course… _ ”

 

“That’s none of your business.” you answer without looking at him. Without warning, you were up against the wall beside the exit door with the Spy looming over you. His only support was his elbow which was right next to your head, minimal space left between your body and his.

“You’ve been treating me quite nastily today.” his warm breath directly connected with your face, the shock of this situation petrifying you and rendering you speechless. 

“Someone needs to teach you some manners…” he craned his neck to let his mouth be as close to your ear as possible before continuing. “And I plan on having that be me.”

Something like a tingling sensation ran from the base of your neck to your coccyx; it should have been obvious before, but the Spy had an overpowering sexual domination. You were biting your tongue, but not out of anger; an unfamiliar sensation made the hairs on your arms stand, and your teeth had already started gnawing on your bottom lip without you noticing. Your face had become as dark of a red as your dress, and you weren’t sure how to get out of this. Panic began to ensue when you remembered that you were supposed to meet with the Medic.

“Spy, I...have somewhere to be,” you squeak , your voice cracking several times. A ravenous look in his eye caused you to freeze again, and he started to whisper.

“You should consider yourself lucky that you won’t be ending up in my room tonight.” he had made his way across your jawline and over your ear again with his words, and stopped on your neck. He wasn't kissing or nipping, only stopped to breathe and let his presence linger as to tease you. Goosebumps had already consumed your body, and your only defense was a hand on his shoulder and the other holding his wrist. So many parts of you were telling you so many things; uncertain of which to listen to, all you did was stand there while Spy infiltrated your personal space. He seized control of your other hand, and overpowered your grip to push your arm back and pin it onto the wall as well. You couldn't find it in you to even fully resist that; with being rendered almost completely helpless with little to do to get away from him, you didn't have much idea for what to do. But, of course, your body was aching in all of the right ways; your mind was protesting more than your physical self. This was both aggravating, yet enticing and powerful. 

Soon, you heard footsteps coming down the hall which threw your will-power back into full control. You started to push back on Spy’s biceps, and he pulled back and smirked as the usually does. But this one looked more mischievous; it came off as if he were thinking, or even planning something. The footsteps grew louder, and he backed completely off.

“I want this to stay between us.” He kept eye contact with you, as he activated his cloak. Now that his whereabouts were unknown, you cautiously peeled your body off of the wall and tried your best to ready yourself for normal interaction. The Spy was gone, but he had left something with you. A very small, but extremely obvious wetness which caused a chain reaction of emotions. Before you had time to try and analyze any of them, of course, the Medic stepped in. He looked as though he was caught off guard by your presence.

“Oh, my…” staring, he surveyed you. You lace your fingers together tightly behind you, trying to smile. If you could turn any redder in the face, it would probably detrimental to your health. Your lip was stuck between your teeth yet again; you were still trying to fully process what just took place between you and the Spy.

“You make me feel underdressed,  _ Mein Liebling _ .” once he reached you, he took one of your hands and held it. This immediately soothed your anxiety, which you figured out was another ‘superpower’ of the Medic’s. He kisses your knuckles, and looks at you with his welcoming eyes. You stayed silent, which made him become worried.

“Are you alright?” he asks, lifting your chin so he could see your face better. “You’re very pale. Are you sick?” he held your head in his palm, letting your neck relax. Something that sounded almost like a purring came from you, and a sigh to follow.

“I’m fine, I’m not sick.” you lie, taking his hand away from your face to hold it. “Could we just go? Please?” you practically beg. Though he was still concerned, he complied. 

 

You both left and got into one of the cars that you wanted to take out inside the gigantic garage that housed dozens of them. There were trucks, cars, and vans of varying styles, bodies, brands, and models. Being mercenaries also required a little bit of digging and spy work, Miss Pauling had told you. So they practically needed a car for every occasion. Throughout the years when you were younger, one of your favorites was one of the  Citroën B12’s that she had actually stolen. Though she was a thief, you could bet money on the fact that the people she had stolen it from has no idea where it is  _ if _ they even realized that it was missing. This fact made you like her even more; you strive to be as crafty and sly as her, yet also as feminine and petite. 

Following Medic, he stops in front of a sort of sport’s car. You chuckle as he climbs into the driver’s seat, and follow him in.

“I didn’t take you to be a sports car kind of guy.” you poke at him, expecting a playful response. A smirk crawled onto his face, and he let his head roll onto his shoulder to look at you.

“There’s a  _ lot  _ you don’t know about me.” 

With a flushed face of dark pink, he caught you off guard by him throwing the car into reverse. The two of you were heading into town, when you realized something.

 

“ _ I’ve never actually been in this town before; not that I can remember. _ ” you rest your elbow rest next to the window, and rest your chin in your palm; the sun looks prettier than usual. As minutes pass, the usual emptiness of the valley outside of the base became littered with buildings and other people. Also, there were more butterflies infesting your stomach than usual. Without you noticing, the Medic glanced over at you every now and then. Your eyes started to wander back in his directing, when you finally start feeling as though you’re being stared at. However, by the time you had Medic in your line of sight he was busy staring at the road. Twirling a loose lock of your hair around your finger, a sweet look gleaming on your face. 

 

“ _ There are endless possibilities that could make this night either extraordinarily amazing, or horrifically bad. Or even, whether it’s worse or better,  _ **_explicit_ ** …” you rub your knees together and nibble on one side of your lower lip.

  
_ That, to you, sounded better. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my ass this time around. I have so much packed in for when you two have coffee that I had to split it up into two, if not three different chapters. I really had to grid at it and put some polish on it, but I hope I didn't over-work it. Pulled some all-nighters, but chapters will more than likely be coming out slower now since I have obtained a second day-job. It's about to be rough, but chapter four will mostly contain dialog. So we get to find out more about you, and the Medic! I'm super stoked.  
> Anyways, thanks for taking the time to read through all of this. I appreciate it, like always.
> 
> Also, a huge shout out to the people who kept pushing me to continue and finish this. Specifically, the people who left Kudos on my work. It means a lot, and it helps the creative process more than you can imagine for me. Especially when I get e-mails that basically say "Hey, dumbass, you still haven't finished that chapter". So, yes. Thanks everybody!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I appreciate you huffing through this chapter. I realize it's long for my first piece, but I put a lot of love and serious thought into it.  
> MaybeNot42 is 'credit to team' here, because their work inspired me to finally start writing my own stuff again. 
> 
> Chapter two will be coming soon! Any comments, opinions, or constructive criticism is welcome in the comments. I was super nervous about publishing this..and still kind of am. But I'm hoping it has a decent turnout!
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> Kimmy.


End file.
